


Beginnings of Brotherhood

by Itsagoodthing (itzagoodthing)



Series: You're Not in This Alone [2]
Category: The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Baby Yoda is soft and snuggly, Caretaking, Din begins his recovery--again, Din is a good dad, Din is stubborn, Major Character Injury, Paz is good at this caretaking thing, Paz wants to scream, Paz's piloting is improving, Sometimes Din wishes he had a single-decker ship, alternative universe, finding their rhythm, spinal cord injury
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-06
Updated: 2020-08-06
Packaged: 2021-03-06 08:01:01
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,408
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25740013
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/itzagoodthing/pseuds/Itsagoodthing
Summary: Following the story You're Not In This Alone, Din, Paz, and the baby try to settle into a rhythm.
Series: You're Not in This Alone [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1867132
Comments: 34
Kudos: 311





	Beginnings of Brotherhood

**Author's Note:**

> FINALLY, I have an update for this series. I have been trying to get something written and it just. would. not. happen. I wrote this today, so hopefully, more will come to me soon. I hope everyone who asked for an update to this series finds this because it's been a long time coming!
> 
> Translations:
> 
> Beroya--bounty hunter  
> Buir--father/mother  
> Vod--brother/sister  
> Vode--brothers/sisters

_Maybe six hours after You’re Not In This Alone wrapped up..._

Paz set the _Razor Crest_ to autopilot and left the cockpit. He swung by the captain’s quarters to check, and, as he figured, it was missing one stubborn Mandalorian. Eyes raising toward the ceiling, Paz breathed out a hard exhale and went to the ladder.

Descending to the lower deck, he was only part of the way down before he picked up the sounds of Din and his foundling. They were in the small galley. The beeping of the nanowave oven confirmed this, and walking up on the pair, Paz leaned against the table and watched Din screw the top on a sippy cup. Shaking it up, he handed it to the baby fussing in his arms. 

“I thought you two were lying down for a rest _._ ”

“So did I.”

Paz eyed the man as Din made his way over to where he stood. Moving out of the way, he continued to watch Din’s careful movements as he started to sink into the seat at the table. He got halfway there before jerking to a stop. Palm slapping against the tabletop, a hard grunt pulled from his helmet, and Paz jumped forward to catch the cup as it started to fall.

He took Din under the elbow of the arm holding the child. Din’s visor swung up to meet him. They had a momentary standoff, then Din sighed, and Paz supported him as he moved to sit. He shifted more than once before finding a position that his back seemed to tolerate.

Impatient with his _buir_ , the child began to fuss again, and Din reached for the cup on the table. He barely moved forward before his back shut down that idea quicker than it had his attempt to sit. Another muffled grunt of pain sounded from behind the helmet. He sighed again, and Paz pushed it across the surface at him.

Din picked it up with muttered thanks. The baby reached for it and Din passed it to him.

Paz watched Din lean his head back. His helmet hit the hull of the ship behind him and he breathed out a long exhale. Paz asked, “So, this nap that was supposed to take place?”

Without moving his head, Din responded, “We laid down for an hour. He woke up unhappy. I think he had a bad dream. I couldn’t get him settled again and decided to try some warm milk.”

“You could have let me handle it. I don’t know how I didn’t hear you two...” Paz trailed off then asked, “You could hardly bend enough to sit down, how did you manage the ladder with him in your arms?”

Din’s helmet rolled against the hull to look at him, “Stuck him down my shirt.”

He wasn’t wearing his armor, and Paz noticed the way the laces at the collar of his shirt were stretched as wide as they could without pulling from the holes that housed them. 

Paz laughed out loud. “Oh, _Beroya,_ the lengths you will go to hold fast to your stubborn self-reliance.”

“Learned behavior. Besides, you were busy piloting.”

“I can pilot with one hand, Din.” Sinking into the seat across from him, Paz rested his arms on the table. “For this to work, for you heal and get over this setback, you have to learn to ask for help. Otherwise, I’m just a source of entertainment rather than support, as we agreed upon.”

“Entertainment?” Paz could hear the scoff in Din’s voice. “We ran into each other almost a week ago. In the time you’ve been with me, I don’t remember you entertaining me once.”

“Well...” Paz leaned back into the seat and linked his fingers behind his helmet. “Guess you better focus on using me for support, then.”

Din didn’t reply, just looked back down at the baby. Half asleep in his arms, the kid nursed on the last half of the warm milk, looking about two blinks away from falling asleep.

“Hey.” Paz offered, “Why don’t you let me finish with the babe and go back up and to finish that nap you were chasing after.”

“It’s okay; I’ve got it.”

“Yeah, you do. But I’m asking you to let me help.” Din didn’t respond, and Paz sighed. “You’ve been bounty hunting for too long, Din.”

That got a reaction out of the man on the other side of the table. His visor rose and settled on him, “What?”

Leaning forward, Paz rested his arms on the table again. “You’ve been away from the Tribe for too long... too much time spent on your own. You’ve forgotten how to accept help or lean on someone for support. You’ve forgotten what it was like to be a part of a family.”

“Aside from him...” Din tipped his helmet toward the kid in his arm, “I haven’t had a family since I was eight.”

“Wrong, Beroya _._ You’ve had a family since the day your _buir_ brought you into our fold. For as long as you’ve been a part of the Tribe, you’ve had a family.” Paz paused a moment and looked at Din, and then his gaze dropped to the babe. “You’ve just been on your own for so long, you’ve forgotten what that’s like. Spending time alone, out here with the stars, Din, you’ve forgotten all the times we’ve leaned on each other.”

“You and I haven’t leaned on each other since before the Purge, _vod_.”

“True, but I wasn’t talking about just me and you. I’m talking about the collective ‘we.’ Being out here on your own for months at a time, Din, you’ve forgotten how the Tribe comes together to raise the younglings. You’ve forgotten how we come together and support each other when we’re knocked off our feet. You see accepting help as a weakness, and it’s not. I don’t see it as such, Cara and Lant don’t see it as such, and none of our _vode_ would see it as a weakness, either.” 

Looking down, Din set the sippy cup on the table. Paz smiled behind his helm as he watched the delicate way the _beroya_ moved the sleeping child. Pressing him to his chest, Din started patting his back. The kid’s little arms and legs moved into a half-hearted stretch, and then his face pushed into the side of his _buir’s_ neck. 

Din glanced down at him as he patted his back, “Whatever _vode_ we still have left...”

His tone had been soft and heavy with sadness and guilt. Paz understood. He, too, felt a similar level of grief when it came to the lives that were lost when the Imps stormed the covert. Although the guilt Din carried around because of it, that was something he held all his own.

Paz told him, “We chose to reveal ourselves.”

“To help me, because I went around everything backward.”

“Perhaps you did, but you’re looking at this from the perspective of a person lacking the apathy you had walked around with back then.” 

A soft burp passed between the baby’s lips, and still, Din kept patting his little back. It seemed as much of a comfort for Din as it was the babe.

Din looked up at him. He didn’t say anything, and Paz elaborated, “Cara and I talked. I know some about what you had to go through to manage the job of being the Tribe’s _beroya—_ the mental conditioning you had to force. I think it’s safe to say you were a man reduced to going through the motions, doing the job, moving on to the next job. _Feeling empathy_ toward your bounties, I think you had shut down that part of your personality for years.”

Din went from tapping the baby’s back to rubbing with light strokes of his gloved fingertips. He was looking down at the child, as Paz said, “Tell me I’m wrong, Din.”

A few more beats of silence, then a heavy sigh passed through the vocoder from across the table, “No, Paz, you’re not wrong.” After another bit of quiet, Din said, “Doesn’t make it right, though.”

“No, it doesn’t,” agreed Paz.

Din’s visor lifted at that. No doubt, the man had been expecting him to find a way to shoot down that point or find another way to justify the course of his actions from those months back. Paz hoped the honesty he spoke would go a ways toward rebuilding the man’s trust with him.

Paz reiterated, “It doesn’t. However, it does prove extenuating circumstances. You weren’t yourself at that point. You didn’t just haul off and decide to make this decision that ended with hefty repercussions. You were misled by a survival tactic you employed to keep from going insane while working alone to collect and deliver living creatures as assets to provide for our Tribe.”

Leaning his head back against the hull again, Din sighed for a second time, “... I don’t know. Perhaps.”

The fatigue in those few words was easy to pick up on, and Paz sat forward. Looking at his vambrace, he pulled up the log he’d started back on Nevarro. It kept track of the medicines Din was taking, the ones that needed to be on a consistent dosing schedule, and the ones that were on an as-needed basis.

At first, Din had balked at the idea, insisting that he was more than capable of managing his medications on his own. To which, Paz had readily pointed out how well that had gone for Din before Paz had joined this clan of two who traveled the stars as they hid out from the Moff.

True, that had been because Din couldn’t take most of the medications because of the sedating, drowsy effects they usually had. The _beroya_ had been quick to point that out, which gave Paz the opportunity to agree, and then point out that Din wasn’t alone anymore. He was there. Use him, take the meds. Heal, and recover by letting him help where it was needed. Step one of that plan was letting Paz help keep track of Din’s medicines, and when they were taken last.

Hence, the log.

“You’re not due for any medications for another three hours. Give me the child and go lay down.”

The exhale Din breathed was long and heavy. “Yeah, alright.”

“Good.” Pushing himself to his feet, Paz took a step closer and held out his hands. Din looked at the child, snuggled and sleeping against him before handing him over. Leaning in so Din wouldn’t have to stretch, Paz gathered the child into his hold and tucked him into the crook of his arm.

Looking at Din again, he extended a silent hand in offering. He’d been sitting for a while and Paz knew straightening out to his full height wouldn’t come easy to him. Looking at his gloved palm, Din accepted the help as he moved to stand up.

Bracing himself on the table, Din used Paz for leverage and hauled himself to his feet. His back locked up halfway and his knees went soft, but they had both expected that. Rooting himself into position, it was no trouble for Paz to hold the child in one arm and support Din with the other until he got himself straightened out.

Din gripped Paz’s arm the whole way to the ladder. His steps were slow and careful as his damaged spinal cord took its time relaying appropriate messages between his brain and his legs. The attack Din had suffered happened just over one week ago, and getting Lant to discharge him early had only happened because he knew Paz would be traveling with Din and his foundling. That, and Paz had sweetened the pot by giving Lant his word that he wouldn’t hesitate to restrain Din to the bed if need be—something Lant had been yearning to do himself for some time.

Whatever it took, Paz gave Lant his word that he would see to it that Din got the rest he needed to achieve the full recovery promised to him.

Shadowing Din as they made their way up the ladder, Paz climbed behind him as they ascended to the upper deck of the ship. Din wasn’t wearing his cloak or his armor as the weight of both made the task of walking and moving even more difficult for him than it already was. 

Paz knew it must make him feel naked on some level, but then again, they didn’t wear their armor every second of every day. As it was, with nothing left to do but remain in the safety of hyperspace, he had shed his own cuirass hours ago.

Din stalled out at the top of the ladder for a moment. One foot on the upper deck, the other still on the last rung of the ladder, Din exhaled an audible wince as he pushed off the ladder. His legs trembled from the strain, and Paz didn’t ask before bracing his back against the wall of the ladder well and gave Din’s hip a boost with his hand. It did the trick, and Din stepped onto the upper deck.

“Thanks.”

Paz looked at him as he stepped beside where Din leaned against the wall. An actual thank you had been spoken, and not some grumble about being able to do it himself.

Was that progress? Yes, Paz smiled. Yes, he dared to believe that it was, and he responded with a single nod of his helm. “This is the Way, _vod_.”

Din chuckled. It was breathy and worn. “What, shoving my ass off the ladder?”

Moving beside him, Paz was pleased when he didn’t have to offer his arm before Din had grabbed it for support again as they walked to his quarters. “Not exactly,” Paz answered, “I was referring more to the act of offering support to a fellow Tribe member.”

Din hummed at that, but he didn’t laugh, and he also didn’t rebuke his words.

More progress? Hmm... perhaps. Time would tell.

Paz nestled the child into his pram as Din took the few steps to his bed and did this awkward sort of fall-roll-plop maneuver.

Paz didn’t judge. It was obviously well-practiced from a time when the man had needed to find new and inventive ways to do simple things Paz took for granted like sitting, or picking up something from the floor, or lying down in bed.

Now that Din’s healing had regressed to the point of needing to put these maneuvers back into use, Paz’s jaw clenched with frustration for his friend. For the first time in a long time, he found himself with the urge to take a side trip back to Jakku, just to beat a few thick Mandalorian heads together.

Later. Perhaps after Din healed fully, they would go together and obtain the revenge they owed him for his current condition.

Yes, later, Paz decided as he handed Din his blanket.

Din took it as Paz linked the pram to his vambrace. A touch of a button and the top closed.

He looked at Din, “I’ll be in the cockpit for most of the time. You’ll call for me if you need anything.”

There was no question mark at the end of that sentence. Din picked up on this and responded with a slightly cranky, “Yes, Paz.”

“Because we had this same conversation ninety minutes ago when you first decided to lie down and rest. Then I found you and your _ad_ in the galley warming up a cup of milk.”

“I’ll let you know. Now, get out.”

Paz heard the smile formed around the delivery of Din’s blunt statement, and behind the blue of his helm, the corners of his mouth twitched upward. 

Playing off the grumpy tone, Paz just hummed. “We’ll see about that.”

He turned to leave, then stopped and bent down to tug the blanket over Din’s legs. He could have done it; Paz knew he could. It would require him to either sit up or to use his legs to kick it into place.

He’s seen that process, and both actions left Din slightly winded by the time he had finished. He was right there, and regardless of the bellyaching he might receive, he decided to take care of it for him at that time.

Draping the blanket over Din, Paz dropped the edge and made for the doorway—no complaint or griping comment followed after. By that point, Paz thought he might just keel over from the shock of all this progress they were making.

Perhaps their talk had registered with Din on some level. It certainly seemed to be the case, and Paz hoped that the longer he traveled with this clan of two, the more instinctive Din would feel about settling back into a tribe mindset. He wasn’t alone anymore, and it was Paz’s sincere wish that he would continue to allow himself to accept that vital truth.

Stepping out of the room, Paz turned and looked at the man in the bed. “I’ll close the door. Remove your helm and get some proper rest.”

His head angled on the pillowed toward him, “I will.”

Din couldn’t lock the door from where he was. He probably couldn’t get from the entrance to the bed on his own at the moment. The faith he placed in Paz in order to remove his helm while the door to his quarters remained accessible from the outside spoke of great trust between them. It made Paz’s chest puff out just the slightest bit as his helm bowed into a quick nod. “Good.”

He raised his hand to touch the door control pad when Din called him. He looked back, “Yes?”

“Where are we headed?”

“Dantooine.”

“Dantooine?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“Well, because it’s Outer Rim, no New Republic base of operations, and enough of a population to offer a decent-sized market. I need to go shopping.”

“Shopping?”

“What is this, a round of my last-word questioning? Yes, Din, shopping. I went through your food stores. You have pathetically nothing. I don’t know the last time you restocked, but what I found is hardly enough to keep you fed, let alone me. Aside from crates of powdered baby milk and Bantha Grahams, we’ve got nothing. I want food, Din. And I refuse to survive on ration bars when there is real food in the galaxy that is healthy and palatable. We’re headed to Dantooine.”

“So, that’s... a two-day trip?”

“Roughly.”

“All right,” Din tugged the covers up over his shoulders, “I could probably walk around a market in two days.”

“You could barely make it to the ladder on your own. You’re staying on the ship while I go shopping.”

“Lant said if I were smart about it, the swelling from the attack would be mostly resolved within a week, leaving me just to deal with the setback. Two more days is a day shy of a week. As long as it’s a small market, I could probably make it.”

Paz hummed at that. “Behave and rest of the next two days in space, and then we’ll see.”

“I’m a grown man, Paz. I don’t need your permission to walk around a market.”

“True. You don’t, and I don’t expect you to ask for it.”

Paz sighed. He could get heavy-handed with the protective mother henning he tended to exhort over his _vode_. He knew this, as it had been candidly pointed out to him many times in the decades he’s spent within the armor.

Push Din too hard, and he wouldn’t stop to remind him of his overbearing ways—no, he’d be more likely to shove him through the trash chute mid-flight. Again, Paz sighed, “How about we just wait and see how you feel when we get there. You know your limits.”

“Correct.”

“Okay. It’s a plan, then. We reach Dantooine in two days. In the meantime, rest, _Beroya_.”

Not waiting for a response, Paz stepped back and touched the keypad. The doors to the captain’s quarters slid shut, and Paz turned for the cockpit, the baby in its pram trailing after.

TBC...

Note: Yep, I know. The original story had Din’s quarters on the lower level. I’ve since done some remodeling with this AU _Razor Crest_ and figured from what we’ve seen, it makes more sense to have it on the upper level. 

I hope you enjoyed this!


End file.
